


Heroes Live Forever

by Lady_Angel_Fanwriter



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Action/Adventure, Episode: s03e15 Yesterday's Enterprise, Kobayashi Maru, Space Battles, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Angel_Fanwriter/pseuds/Lady_Angel_Fanwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brilliant solution to the infamous Kobayashi Maru test, given by a very young Rachel Garret at her last Academy year, will help the heroes of the Narendra III battle to save the Federation from a terrifying war against the Klingons.<br/>(Inspired by the episode 3.15 of ST: TNG Yesterday’s Enterprise)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroes Live Forever

** **

 

**San Francisco** **, Earth, 2314**

 

The large sliding door before me, in black metal, was impenetrable and dark. I felt a sense of oppression in my chest, my hands were icy and sweaty, and my knees had changed to jelly.

“Are you ready, Cadet?” asked me Commander Tuliak, whose Vulcan grandmother left evidence only on his physical aspect, his voice, being full of sympathy.

I looked at him with what had to be a terrified expression, because he flashed me an encouraging smile:

“Don’t worry, Rachel: I had to face this test, too, and I assure you that, even if it is something memorable, it isn’t that bad as they say.”

His words cheered me up considerably:

“Thank you, sir”, I said, “I’m ready.”

I wasn’t ready at all, but I was sure that I would never be, and therefore it was better to put an end to that torment as soon as possible, facing head first, as it was my style, anything infamous that the _Kobayashi Maru_ test truly was.

The double shutter door opened in front of me with an hydraulic hiss, revealing the holographic recreation of the bridge deck of an _Excelsior_ class spacecraft, whose name was _Aldebaran_ , as the plate to the side of the turboelevator testified, from which I apparently came in.

Not holograms but senior officers of Starfleet Academy were at the various stations, among them some of my instructors; the captain’s chair was empty.

“Captain on bridge!”, Lieutenant Moratti, in charge of the communications, immediately announced, and all stiffened to attention. I looked behind me, but the door of the hologram suite had already closed and I saw only the turboelevator.

 _For all the bloody lightings of Jupiter_ , I thought, _it begins easily_. What the hell they were expecting from a cadet, thrown at the command of an _Excelsior_ class ship, I really didn’t know.

“At ease, sirs”, I said weakly, and the bridge deck officers got back to their jobs.

I stared at the captain’s chair and breathed carefully: it wasn’t the first time I sat on it, in a simulation, but it never happened as the captain.

An ensign approached me, handing me a Di-PADD.

“The report on the replicators, sir”, he said.

 _Fine_ , I thought, _at least there’s_ something _I know_.

“Unlike the regulations, Ensign, I don’t want to be called _sir_ ”, I said, “ _Captain_ will do perfectly in any situation.”

I found that part of the Starfleet regs totally absurd, and I always intended that, if I ever arrived to command a ship, my subordinates would _not_ use it, with me. And those who invented that rule should go in peace.

“Yes sir… hmmm, Captain”, answered the ensign, controlling quickly his surprise. I restrained myself from looking at the face of Lieutenant Moratti, who was my instructor for Communications. He was also the teacher I respected the most, and of course his approval was highly important to me. However, a captain doesn’t need the approval of anyone. Therefore, pretending a self-confidence I was far from feeling, I took the Di-PADD and skimmed it rapidly: being all shipshape, I signed it with my initials and gave it back to the ensign, who thanked me with a nod and took leave, exiting the bridge.

The short break had been enough to divert my mind from the anxiety; probably, it had been designed exactly for that purpose. I looked at the captain’s chair and I didn’t feel so much awe any longer: after all, it would be the crowning achievement of my career as a Starfleet officer, one day… if I proved worthy of it, obviously.

I went and sat down, observing the screen, which showed the empty space where we were travelling; I estimated that our speed could be around warp 5.

“Condition?”, I asked. The first officer, for this occasion played by Commander Leila Sinwaar, a beautiful Arabic woman who wasn’t among my instructors but whom I knew by sight, explained the current situation:

“Following our mission, we’re patrolling our side of the Neutral Zone in the sector eight-four-five. Our present course is four-two-six point one, warp five point two. Nothing to report in the last eight hours, Captain.”

I noticed that she immediately had adjusted to my request – actually, my order – not to be addressed as _sir_. Maybe she, too, didn’t like it.

“Fine. Navigator, go on.”

“Going on, Captain”, confirmed the navigator, Lieutenant Commander T’Kia, a solemn Vulcan woman who was my instructress in Space Cartography.

“Captain, incoming communication”, Moratti advised. I turned the chair to look at him and I saw him listening intently into his earpiece, a hand in his black hair, the other one dancing on the console with the clear intent to improve the reception.

I held back the obvious question about who was calling and waited patiently for the skilled officer to tell me, as soon as he would be able to do so.

“It’s very garbled…”, he murmured, “There’s much subspace interference…”, he manipulated the controls a little longer, “I’m not able to filter it better than this, Captain: shall I pass it through the loudspeakers?”

“Do it, Mr. Moratti.”

Moratti pressed a button; a voice, interlaced with electrostatic disturbance, seemed to come out of nowhere:

“This is USS _Kobayashi Maru_ , to any sh…ing: we are in need of immediate assist…! I repeat, here. … _bayashi Maru_ , we need help, at once! Please respond!”

“Get us through, Mr. Moratti”, I ordered, “Mr. Devière, are you registering anything?”

“They are beyond the range of our sensors, Captain”, the blond science officer, Lieutenant Etienne Devière, informed me, while Moratti spoke, almost interrupting him:

“You can speak, Captain.”

“ _Kobayashi Maru_ , this is USS _Aldebaran_ , we’re listening. What’s your situation?”

“Thanks God! _Aldebaran_ , there’s been a matter-antimatter explosion…”, a subspace disturbance cancelled the remainder of the sentence, “… a great number of wounded people. Can you give us aid?”

“Certainly. Give us your coordinates and repeat your situation, the communication is very disturbed.”

“We’re at eight-seven-three point four-four of sector nine-four-nine. The explosion caused dozens of deaths and hundreds of wounded, the vital support is at bottom level and…”

The communication broke suddenly. At my glance, Moratti shook his head:

“We lost contact, Captain.”

“Try to re-establish it, Commander. T’Kia, where’s that ship?”, I demanded. The navigator’s expression, gloomy even for a Vulcan, gave me shivers:

“It’s inside the Neutral Zone, Captain.”

Luckily, in those four years of Academy I had learned not to let go myself to the colourful language I generally used when I was upset. Well, _almost_ always. Sinwaar had to read in my face the sequence of curses that was coming to my mind.

“Tough nut to crack, Captain”, she commented in a sympathetic tone, then she addressed the science officer, “Mr. Devière, what type of ship is the _Kobayashi Maru_?”

“Cargo ship class 3, crew 81 units, passengers 300”, Lieutenant Devière turned around to look at me with an alarmed expression, “At the departure from Centaurus they were sold out, Captain!”

“Three-hundred and eighty-one people…”, I whispered, appalled, “We can definitely not let them die out of respect to a treaty!”

“Captain, it’s my duty to point out that, should the Romulans discover us, they wouldn’t hesitate to attack and destroy us”, Sinwaar said, “A diplomatic incident with no precedents would derive from it, which consequences are barely predictable…”

“Better a diplomatic incident than almost four hundred dead people”, I cut her off, then, realizing I had been too rude, I added, “Thank you, Number One, but a treaty is a sheet of paper while, out there, there are three hundred and eighty-one _persons_ in life danger.”

Sinwaar nodded, and by her expression I recognized that she shared my feelings.

“Commander T’Kia”, I addressed the navigator, “Insert the coordinates to the _Kobayashi Maru_ and set the shortest course. Lieutenant Ondeen, let’s reach that ship at the highest possible speed.”

“Course inserted, Captain”, the Vulcan confirmed. The Andorian pilot’s bright blue hands, with long tapered fingers, flew on the console:

“Warp seven point five, Captain.”

“Estimated time of arrival?”

“Twelve point two minutes.”

I turned to the communication officer:

“Lieutenant Moratti?”

He diverted briefly his eyes from the control panel:

“No contact, Captain.”

“Don’t give up”, I urged him, then I addressed the science officer, “Lieutenant Devière, how much inside the Neutral Zone is the _Kobayashi Maru_?”

“Point seven light-years, Captain.”

“They’re almost in Romulan territory”, Sinwaar pointed out, scowling, “I wonder how they could come there.”

“Sabotage of the navigation systems”, hypothesized Devière.

“Or the ship’s been hijacked”, prompted Ondeen from the helm, his antennas upright. I frowned: I liked neither of the two.

Suddenly the yellow alert rang out.

“Attention, attention”, said the non-embodied voice of the computer, “You are about to trespass the border of the Neutral Zone.”

“Silence that siren”, I ordered, and Moratti set the device on _mute_.

“Attention, border of the Neutral Zone trespassed”, the computer informed us superfluously: we were all watching our course on the main screen, where T’Kia had summoned a diagram which superimposed over the normal vision of space.

I felt the tension rocketing on the bridge, and it seemed to me that a gigantic hand was squeezing my stomach.

 _“Kobayashi Maru_ on sensors”, Devière announced. With no apparent reason, my hair rose on my nape, and in that moment Devière shouted:

“Romulan Bird of Prey un-disguising in front of us!”

Like in a nightmare, I saw a Bird of Prey appearing on the screen, almost right in front of our prow. Its greenish brilliance, due to the metal that covered the immense double hull, seemed gloomy as will-o’-the-wisps in an ancient cemetery.

“Red alert! Raise shields!”, yelled Sinwaar, “Load phasers! Prepare photonic torpedoes!”

Too late: the Romulans fired with all their batteries. The _Aldebaran_ shook violently under the impact of the disruptors.

“Shields at seventy percent!”, Devière exclaimed, “Damages on decks number five, six and seven!”

“Evasive manoeuvre!”, I ordered, and while T’Kia accomplished I spun around toward the communication station, “Mr. Moratti, open a channel to that ship!”

“Open frequencies, Captain”, Moratti’s answer arrived a second later.

“Here is the Federation spaceship USS _Aldebaran_ ”, I said in a loud voice, “on rescue mission to a ship of ours which is missing and heavily damaged…”

On screen appeared a Romulan female with the insignias of a Commander.

“You violated the Neutral Zone”, she said in an icy tone, ignoring completely my words, “Following the rules of the treaty, you will be immediately shot down. We will not take prisoners.”

As she finished the sentence, her image vanished.

“Wait!”, I shouted, “We’re undertaking a rescue miss…”

Another violent spray of disruptors cut off my protest.

“The _Kobayashi Maru_ disappeared from the sensors!”, Devière exclaimed in an alarmed tone. The truth hit me with the brutality of a blow: it had been a trap!

An explosion almost kicked me off the chair, and when I turned to look around I saw Devière on the floor, his chest ripped open. A second explosion shot Ondeen out of his seat, and splinters injured him and T’Kia heavily.

“Medical team on the bridge!”, Sinwaar yelled; a third explosion knocked her down, sending her flying against the navigation console. She slammed her head and fell unconscious, or maybe dead.

“Mr. Moratti!”, I called in an urgent tone, “Report!”

We were the only two left. Everything had happened in less than sixty seconds.

“Critical situation, Captain”, was the depressing answer, “We’ve been hit in vital places. We haven’t warp engines any longer, the vital support is on minimum and the shields are on the brink of collapse. All sections report heavy damages, there are many dead and injured people.”

I rushed to the helm and fiddled frantically on the commands, trying to distance the ship from the battle at the highest possible speed, without even wasting time to turn her.

“Maximum intensity to the prow shields!”, I ordered. Moratti jumped at my side on the navigation station and accomplished, while the _Aldebaran_ slowly… too slowly!... began to pull back.

The Romulans fired again; part of the blows was absorbed by what was left of the deflecting shields. Then the collapse arrived, and the remainder of the lethal spray of gunfire hit us. The inertial dampers, overloaded, went out, and the ship jigged, pitching and rolling wildly like a frisky horse.

“Hull structure compromised!”, Moratti called out in a shrill voice, “Main energy out!”

With gloomy certainty, I realized that there was nothing more to do.

“Insert auxiliary energy!”, I ordered, then I jumped back near the captain’s chair and I pressed the activating button for the unicom, which would allow my voice to be heard on the whole ship.

“Here’s the Captain”, I said, “Abandon ship, I repeat, abandon ship! Everybody to the rescue pods!”

The emergency evacuation procedure would require only a few minutes. It was the most practiced drill on any ship.

Moratti looked at me, his dark eyes almost jutting. He was clearly on the brink to lose control, like me anyway; but I was the Captain, and I couldn’t absolutely allow myself to. Hundreds of lives depended on my ability to keep my nerve.

“Shall we surrender?”, Moratti asked in a whisper. During endless moments, the question lingered in the air like a smoke puff, while my brain eddied looking for an impossible solution.

“No”, I heard myself saying like from an immense distance, “You heard them: they won’t take prisoners.”

Moratti turned to look at the screen, where an enormous Bird of Prey dominated the surroundings, motionless.

“And what will we do then?”

I got back to the helm, my eyes fixed on the enemy ship. In my mind blossomed suddenly an idea, coming from the awareness that we were condemned.

“They won’t take prisoners…”, I repeated in a low voice, “But, gosh, we can drag them with us!”

And maybe I could give my crew a hope.

Moratti stared at me without understanding.

“Lieutenant”, I addressed him, “calculate a course which can bring us straight between the two hulls of the Bird of Prey. Then take the helm and prepare to proceed at the highest possible impulse speed”, seeing him hesitate, I rose my voice, “Move!”

My authoritative tone shook him out of his indecision. While he accomplished, I went to the engineer’s station and dialled on the buttons a sequence I never thought would be necessary.

“Time, Mr. Moratti?”, I asked.

“Six seconds.”

I pressed the last button on the panel; the voice of the computer warned:

“Core destruction sequence inserted; waiting for authorisation codes to activate.”

I watched Moratti’s reaction, as he turned to look at me. A light of comprehension rose in his eyes.

I gave the code, clearly articulating it.

“Identity confirmed. Code validity accepted”, the computer sentenced, “Please produce second authorisation code.”

I looked at Moratti, who was the third officer; in absence of Sinwaar and Devière, it was up to him to confirm my order.

He did it.

“Identity confirmed. Code validity accepted”, the computer repeated, imperturbable, “Set countdown.”

“No countdown”, I said, “Accomplish at my verbal order.”

“Confirmed. Awaiting for verbal order from the captain.”

“Mr. Moratti…”, I turned toward the lieutenant, sitting at the helm; our eyes met, but I realized I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s been an honour to work with you, Captain”, Moratti said in a low voice. I nodded:

“It’s been the same for me, Lieutenant”, I confirmed, then I took a deep breath, “Engage!”

Moratti turned toward his console and pressed a single button. The ship moved forward at maximum impulse, straight into the Bird of Prey.

Time has a really unique subjective quality: the same lapse of time may appear of different duration to different people. So, hours may seem minutes, or on the contrary minutes may seem hours. In that circumstance, the six seconds that separated us from destruction seemed to me six hours.

The Bird of Prey, perhaps sensing our intentions, moved sideward, but Moratti corrected manually the course and inserted the _Aldebaran_ between the two immense hulls.

“Computer, activate!”

The universe dissolved in an explosion of blinding light.

Then darkness descended.

A second later, light came back; the bridge deck wasn’t there anymore, replaced by the yellow grid which delimitated the walls of the hologram suite. Sinwaar, Devière, Ondeen and T’Kia stood up from the floor, unscathed, while Moratti was already standing. All were staring at me, with expressions I couldn’t decipher. I felt stunned: so _this_ was the infamous _Kobayashi Maru_ test. I didn’t know what I expected, but surely not what had happened.

I heard the familiar hydraulic hiss of the door opening behind me and I turned. My eyes went wide: aside Commander Tuliak there was Admiral Hikaru Sulu.

I froze to attention together with the other ones. The Admiral entered, followed by Tuliak, and approached me.

“At ease, sirs”, he said, talking to all of us but looking at me with a friendly smile, “Well, Cadet, what do you think?”

I struggled to find the words to say. I didn’t find any, so I placed instead a question:

“ _Was_ there a way to win, sir?”

Sulu’s smile became wider:

“Is that all you are interested in, Cadet? To win?”

“If with _win_ you mean _to save the highest number possible of persons_ , then yes, sir, I’m interested only in this.”

His smile lessened, but did not vanish.

“Well said, Cadet”, he approved, “And to answer your question, no, there is no way to win: the _Kobayashi Maru_ is a losing scheme test.”

I took a deep breath: now everything was clear to me.

“I understand”, I said, “It’s a character test: you put the candidate up against a situation with no way out and observe how he or she reacts”, I shook my head, dejected, “I hope I didn’t disappoint you too much, sirs.”

The Admiral rose an eyebrow:

“Disappoint?”, he repeated, “Not nearly, I’d say. You are one of the few who reacted in an original way. No one before you had ever thought to use the ship like a weapon against the enemy.”

“I remembered the ancient Japanese _kamikaze_ ”, I said. It was not completely true: I thought about them only now, because I knew that Sulu was of Nippon ascent. However, I had the clear sensation that, in the recesses of my mind, the memory had been present during the crisis.

The Admiral showed appreciation about this, addressing me with another smile. I thought that very few high officers were able to be so amiable, and I answered his smile.

“We’ll tell you the evaluation within tomorrow evening”, Tuliak informed me, “but I think I can already say that the result will be one of the most brilliant ever.”

Sulu nodded to confirm, and I felt proud like never before.

“Dismissed”, said the Admiral. While going out, the officers who had taken part to the simulation greeted me cordially, except T’Kia who was a Vulcan and gave me only a haughty nod, just not to be rude according to human canon. I was to tag along, as something occurred to me.

“Admiral Sulu, can I inquire about something?”, I asked. The Admiral invited me with a gesture to get out with him:

“Speak freely, Cadet.”

We started to walk along the corridor.

“I heard that Captain Kirk was the only one who was ever able to beat the _Kobayashi Maru_ test”, at his confirming nod, I went on, “Could you tell me how he managed it?”

Sulu smiled amused:

“You never give up, do you? It’s an excellent quality, in a spaceship captain, which will help you in the crisis moments. You’ll have the opportunity to read the best solutions found by your predecessors; but, because you asked me, I’ll tell you in advance: Captain Kirk souped up the program the night before the test.”

I was shocked.

“And he got a punishment?”, I asked. Sulu grinned:

“You’re kidding! They gave him an MID for _tactical originality_!”

I giggled: I should have expected it, Captain James Kirk was universally known to have always been someone who, in order to win, was able to change the tables under the nose of the opponent. That was why he was a legend, and the hero every cadet strived to be like, one day; included myself.

I told it to Sulu.

“You have something that remembers me of Captain Kirk”, he declared, surprising me, “I bet you’ll do great deeds, in Starfleet, Cadet Garrett. One day, you’ll become a great spaceship captain.”

A _great_ captain? I wished it!

“Thank you for your encouragement, sir”, I said, incapable to avoid a blush, “I’ll try to deserve your trust.”

 

**USS _Enterprise_ NCC-1701-D, deep space, 2366**

 

In her quarters, Guinan turned off the computer screen on that page of the diary of Rachel Garrett, captain of the USS _Enterprise_ NCC-1701-C.

The ebony skinned El-Aurian didn’t know why she had suddenly the irresistible desire to know better that woman, who went down into history for having intervened in the battle of Narendra III and consumed the supreme sacrifice in the fight against the Romulans who attacked the little guarded Klingon colony of that planet. In that way she had saved hundreds of thousands of people; that heroic endeavour earned her and the whole crew a Military Valour Gold Cross in memory. Besides, the courage and abnegation that the _Enterprise-C_ showed that day struck the proud Klingon Empire so much to persuade the High Counsel to inaugurate a new era of cooperation and trust with the Federation. After the Khitomer Conference, this was the episode that more than all other ones had contributed to the détente between the two space powers. 

Guinan thought again of the strange sensation which had pervaded her the day before; she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her perception of time. Deanna Troi, the ship’s Counsellor, believed that, somehow, the El-Aurians perceived time differently than other humanoids. So far, however, she could not define it in scientific, tangible terms; so, for the moment both simply accepted what the Betazoid Counsellor’s empathic nature suggested.

Yes... there had been a kind of displacement. Guinan slowed down the mental image of her reminiscence, and glimpsed at what seemed a gash into space in front of the _Enterprise_. An old shaped ship emerged from it; a name stood out clearly on the disc section... USS _Enterprise_ NCC-1701-C!

Guinan started and lost concentration. What could have happened? Why did she have that vision of a ship which had disappeared over twenty years ago in a tragic battle?

“Computer”, she called, “how was the battle of Narendra III?”

The nice female voice of the computer began to recite the story in a professional tone:

“In 2344, hostile Romulan forces attacked the third planet in the Narendra system, which had been colonized by the Klingon Empire. The reason later pleaded was that the Narendra system was inside the borders of the Romulan Empire, but the claim had no recognized legal validity. The _Enterprise-C_ , in command of Captain Rachel Garrett, took the assistance request of the colony and rushed to its aid, giving support to the few Klingon battle cruisers defending Narendra III. The intervention of the _Enterprise-C_ was crucial to the safety of the colony, but the ship was destroyed. There is no record of survivors (1). Video documentation of the battle available.”

Guinan stretched out towards the computer monitor:

“On screen.”

A beautiful blue and white planet appeared, orbiting around a yellow-orange star of average size. From the right side, five Romulan Birds of Prey came into view, whose disruptors poured lethal energy bursts on the colony. From behind the planet three Klingon battle cruisers came out, which engaged the enemy despite of the great number inferiority. The fight raged with unthinkable ferocity; a Klingon cruiser was destroyed, and only minutes later another was seriously damaged, while the Birds of Prey seemed just a little bit daunted. The colony seemed doomed, but right then the _Enterprise-C_ appeared, throwing herself into the battle with the whole power of her phaser batteries and photonic torpedoes, spreading confusion among the Romulan forces. But these ones got quickly over their surprise and answered fire with mortal precision, and soon it was clear that the _Enterprise_ , by now heavily damaged, could not make it. Then, for the duration of a heartbeat, behind the federal ship appeared what seemed a gash in the very fabric of space. Guinan hold her breath: it was identical to the one she had seen earlier in her vision. It seemed that the _Enterprise_ vanished, but she reappeared immediately afterwards and attacked again. Hammered by the enemy’s fire, she carried out some incisive evasive manoeuvres; for a moment, only for a moment, she seemed to be almost able to back out, then the shields collapsed and the ship was hit full force. Guinan realized it was over. But then, in a last spurt of energy, the _Enterprise_ moved, aiming directly into the nearest Bird of Prey. With a manoeuvre that looked incredible, she slipped between the two enormous twin hulls… and then exploded in an incandescent plasma burst which incinerated both ships. Bewildered, the Romulans hesitated, and in that moment Klingon forces turned up, as well as other ships of the Federation. The Romulans beat a hasty retreat, and the simulation ended there.

Guinan turned off the screen. Now she thought she could grasp vaguely what had to have happened: the gash was a space-time anomaly, which transported the _Enterprise-C_ into the future to meet the _Enterprise-D_. What occurred later exactly, Guinan could not figure out, but she unexpectedly shivered, like she had escaped a terrible destiny, not only for herself, but for billions of persons. Evidently, the timeline visited by the _Enterprise-C_ was very different from the one Guinan lived in… perhaps horrible like a nightmare.

She never knew how near she had come to the truth.

 

**Narendra III, Klingon Empire, 2344**

 

The _Enterprise_ NCC-1701-C re-emerged suddenly from the gash in the space-time fabric caused by the anomaly which had swallowed her up earlier; from the point of view of the occupants, many hours had gone by, but from the one of the people at hand out there – the Romulan attackers and the Klingon defenders – it had been only the blink of an eye.

Lieutenant Castillo, in command of the _Enterprise_ since Captain Rachel Garret had been killed in a future 22 years ahead, turned towards Tasha Yar, who came with him from that same future to find a honourable death, in place of the useless one Guinan had foreseen for her.

“Shields efficiency?”, he asked. Lieutenant Yar reciprocated Richard Castillo’s gaze: they had understood each other profoundly since the first minute… it was a shame that their story could have no possibility.

“Sixty percent”, she said in an efficient tone. She had been the tactical officer and the head of security on board of the _Enterprise-D_ , in a gloomy future dominated by a terrible war between Federation and Klingon Empire, which had already reaped billions of victims. Guinan, Captain Picard’s mysterious El-Aurian friend, declared that the return of the _Enterprise-C_ in the desperate battle of Narendra III, 22 years in the past, could change that future in one better… where however she, Yar, was dead. Dead of a death that Guinan could not point out, but which had been useless, futile. Yar rebelled toward that destiny: she was a warrioress, and as such she wanted to live… and to die. So, when the crew of the _Enterprise-C_ , proving an almost superhuman courage, decided to go back in time, to a battle where they were already practically dead, in the hope for a future of peace and understanding between Federation and Klingon Empire, she asked Captain Picard’s permission to join the crew of the _Enterprise-C_. She knew that, doing so, she was going toward her death; but, at least, she would not die in vain.

“Phaser batteries ready; photonic torpedoes ready”, she added. Sitting on the captain’s chair, Castillo observed the disruptors of the Birds of Prey hit the only Klingon cruiser left defending the Narendra III colony.

“Fire at will”, he ordered. The _Enterprise_ opened fire with all her batteries, hammering the Romulan ships. These answered the attack even too quickly, and the federal ship, steered by Tasha Yar with all her experience of a lifetime spent in a perennial war, performed some effective evasive manoeuvres. But it was not enough: the Romulans outnumbered them by far. On the bridge, Castillo was shot out of his chair, and Yar managed to remain sitting on her station only by grabbing the helm console.

“Report!”, Castillo shouted to let himself heard over the blasting of the explosions, which echoed very near.

“Main energy out… I insert the auxiliary energy!”, Yar shouted in turn, “Shields collapsed, ship hit in vital places, hull integrity compromised… We’re dead, Richard!”

Lieutenant Castillo sat back to the captain’s chair, his eyes reduced to two splits while he observed the Birds of Prey looming over their victim.

They had no possibility; the crew was reduced to less than the half even before the anomaly had swallowed them, and later the Klingon attack in the future, which would cost also Captain Garrett’s life, had further decreased it. With the damages they had suffered in this last attack, the ship was finished.

There was no way out.

The _Enterprise-D_ crew, who protected them from a Klingon attack while they were re-entering the anomaly to return into the past, had sacrificed itself in vain.

He could not allow it.

A memory surfaced in Castillo’s mind.

The _Kobayashi Maru_ test.

After having overcome it, cadets could view the most brilliant solutions of their predecessors; among them, Castillo had found the one of who, some years later, would become his captain, Rachel Garrett.

He thought that it was exactly what they needed.

He could not imagine that that decision was the last tile of the event concatenation which, changing the past, would change the future, making their sacrifice sublime.

*   *   *

Only a few know it, because Klingons do not love to talk about it, but in a hall of the High Counsel palace, in the Empire’s capital, there is a holography which depicts the battle of Narendra III. In it, there is the _Enterprise-C_ while, in a wake of incandescent plasma due to the rupture of the warp core, hurls herself against a Romulan Bird of Prey, the planet on the background. The subtitle is a verse of the Kahless epic: _Heroes live forever_.           

    

 

T H E   E N D 

 

 

(1) Later it was heard that Lieutenant Natasha Yar, coming from an alternative future, had instead survived and had been taken prisoner by the Romulans. A high officer fell in love with her and married her, and from the marriage a baby girl was born, Sela. After an escape attempt, Yar had later been condemned to death.

 

 

     Lady Angel

 

 


End file.
